Haousama!
by kyaracandy
Summary: Johan has come to the Dark World, but decides he needs a makeover instead.


**A/N**: Oh dear lord I had so much fun writing this. THIS IS COMPLETELY **CRACK** OH MY GOD DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY AT ALL. Thank you very much.

Dedicated to my darling Hika, with whom I discovered the wonders of Darkspiritshipping~

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><p>The dusty and cobweb-covered halls of the castle echoed with the sound of Johan's footsteps, and every reverberation seemed to him like some other nasty creature waiting to jump out at him and grab him and rip up his precious frilly shirt. He had never quite gotten used to this desolate place. The other attendants to the king always tried to randomly scare him, and he, being literally the only human within miles, was naturally scared of their horrendously ugly faces and roars.<p>

"Hey, look, it's the human! What's he gonna wear today, a dress?" one monster had said the last time he wandered around outside. Johan's fists clenched. He was rather proud of his fashion, and who gave those freaks the right to ridicule him? They were remarkably un-fabulous themselves, anyway.

A particularly ugly-looking troll strode up to him, hefting a spear, and Johan stepped back, his eyes wide and shiny in fear. The creature's laugh sounded like rusty gears grinding together as it gibed, "What's the matter? Are you scared? Is there a troll in the dungeon?" And it laughed even harder, obviously quite amused at its own lame joke. His spiky hair standing even spikier with fright, Johan looked absolutely ridiculous, and the other monsters joined in the laughter, a cacophony of groans and squeaks and all other sorts of nasty noises. Johan grumbled. He'd never fit in here, and he had no idea why he'd bothered to come back to this dimension.

Oh yeah. He was after Judai. Johan stopped his steady procession down the long, medieval-style hallway to stare at his reflection in a cracked mirror. He frowned. He was still unhappy with his hair color, which he had changed just last week in an effort to blend in, but the darker shade didn't compliment his eyes at all, and that distressed him to no end. He fussed with the spikes until they were arranged in a more satisfactory spiky fashion and, sighing, continued down the hall.

Several hours later, Johan's reflection once again appeared in the shattered glass. He wasn't exactly satisfied with his handiwork this time around, but it was good enough, he figured. He'd fix the rest later, but at least, when he had tested it earlier, the monsters living in the castle had sort of stared instead of jeered at him. He made a few faces in the mirror, satisfyingly scaring himself, and moved on.

It was only a few dozen corridors before he found himself in some sort of grand throne room. It was unlikely Judai was in here, but at least Johan had found some central room to explore while he thought up ways to find his friend (including leaving a trail of fried shrimp, though he wasn't sure if monsters ate that kind of thing too). He felt around for a bit and found a doorknob behind the throne. Well. That was interesting. Shrugging and thinking he might as well try every goddamn door in this dimension, he turned the knob and found a flight of stairs so long and grand that it was making him exhausted already just looking at them. Well, he reasoned with himself, he was just going to have to go up them if he wanted to find Judai.

About fifty steps later, he landed in some sort of master bedroom. It had one window at the back, a large, open one that showed the dreary eternal night outside. The main feature of the room was a huge, very ornate bed, the edge tall enough to reach Johan's waist, and the massive sheer canopy fancy enough to put his own shirt to shame. There was something off about it, though, and as Johan squinted a little in the dim light, he noticed a smattering of fuzzy, bright pink pillows. As he stepped back, he realized with horror that all the bed sheets and even the canopy were all a very faint pink color, so much so that they had appeared white at first. He was puzzled. What kind of king did this place have? Or was it a queen?

Johan's heart shot up into his skull when he heard a creak behind him. He spun around, heart pounding, looking around for signs of ugly, twisted monster faces or gigantic weapons or any combination of the two. There weren't any, as far as he could see, but nonetheless, he edged toward a door with a mirror mounted on it and quietly slipped inside.

It was only moments before he realized he was in the royal closet. Johan, immediately forgetting any creaks or dangers or possible angry monarchs, began rummaging through the strange outfits hanging inside. There were several identical black sets of clothing which were decorated with gold embellishments, but Johan found those tiresome. It wasn't until he reached the back of the closet that he found an outfit that simply called out to him. It was sleeveless, dark blue, and had belts across the chest. Oh, how avant-garde, he thought as he admired the piece and he sought to try it on.

Several minutes later, he was standing in front of the mirror, inspecting his handiwork. He could've sworn his muscles had grown during his outfit change, as with the extra belts around his arms, his biceps were seemingly larger than before. He checked his yellow contacts once more to make sure he was creepy-looking enough, but the clothing from the king's closet really completed his transformation. Giggling in a way that sounded more like a maniacal cackle, he did one last twirl in the mirror, hung up his old clothing in the wardrobe, and strutted toward the door.

He turned the knob, pulled open the door and froze on the spot.

"J-Judai?"

A pair of deep golden eyes stared blankly at him from the darkness of the stairway hall. Well, whoever this person was, he looked a hell of a lot like Judai, but had a scary look in his eyes despite the lack of expression on his face. The figure brushed a bit of brown hair out of his face before calmly stepping past the dumbfounded Johan and slamming the door with a force that belied his petite frame.

"You're not supposed to be here," he said, with a voice that sounded eerily like Judai's, but with a slight twinge of something Johan couldn't quite place. The figure's entire being emitted a sort of strange, dark aura.

Normally, in this sort of instance, Johan would shiver and back away slightly, but this new, improved, and quite literally attractive outfit gave him a fresh confidence that he didn't know existed… or perhaps was lying dormant within himself. He didn't stop to think whether the air might have been affecting him or if his new clothes had something to do with it or if Yubel inhabiting his body had left some sort of aftereffect. He sidled right up who he figured was the king of this dimension, stared him in those expressionless froot-loopy yellow eyes and declared, with a twisted grin, "I go where I want."

The king's eyes widened in the most miniscule and rapid of movements, but Johan caught it. He was pretty self-satisfied with catching a royal off guard, especially this one, whose constant poker face had begun to grate on his nerves. The deadpan expression came back with more expressionless force than before, and the perfectly shaped, shiny lips moved. "Bed. Now."

Johan suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable having his tongue inside of his mouth and so stuck it out, accompanying it with a giggle and a narrowing of the eyes. He knew exactly what the king wanted, and he was going to give it to him. _Hard_.

It was certainly satisfying to push his small, light body through the canopy and onto the silken pink sheets. The king looked cute, like a little gothic lolita doll nestled amongst its cushions. "Haou…" Johan breathed, hardly able to contain his excitement as the king's name popped into his head. He climbed on top of Haou's body and commenced undoing the black jacket.

The expression on Haou's face barely changed, even after he lay on the bed, completely undressed, his pale skin reflecting the light of the sinister celestial forms outside. Johan didn't exactly mind at this point, in fact he found everything about the king absolutely adorable, from his expressionless golden eyes to his soft hair to his white skin to the way he tensed ever so slightly at every little touch. He didn't show it on his face, but his skin was burning despite the chilly air in the bedroom, and it didn't cool down even as Johan ran a wayward tongue over that soft and delicious neck and those pretty little ears.

Johan was just about to unzip his pants and finish this until he heard a racket coming from the stairwell. A huge, grotesque monster slammed open the door, screaming, "Haou-sama! The castle is under atta—oh." The troll stopped dead in its tracks when it noticed the dark blue-haired man bent over his king. It proceeded to babble and do other awkward troll things as Johan, snarling, noticed it was the same troll that had made fun of him the other day. No one, especially not this little freak, was going to mess with an angry Hell Johan with a boner.

He jumped off the frilly pink bed and ripped a sword from a nearby suit of armor, causing it to topple over in a maddening rumble that caused the naked Haou to squirm a little in response. Johan, eyes full of rage, drove the sword right with a rough and satisfying shank right through the offensive troll. It shattered into a billion little shards of light, a cleaner death than Johan could have ever imagined. Throwing the used weapon aside, once again self-satisfied, he proceeded to climb back underneath the kawaii sheer canopy, where Haou had begun to make adorable little noises while playing with the fringe on his pillow.

"Now, where were we?" he said with a malicious grin, causing the king to look up from his pillow musings. "Oh yes… I was about to thrust my sword into you as well, _Haou-sama_."


End file.
